


Somewhere in the Dark

by flipflop_diva



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Porn, F/M, Mission Fic, Natasha Feels, Natasha Needs a Hug, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Protective Steve Rogers, Rescue Missions, Steve Needs a Hug, Team Bonding, Team Feels, a couple dirty words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-04
Packaged: 2018-02-24 01:34:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2563391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the weeks following the events of Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson spend their days tracking down leads to the winter soldier's whereabouts. But when Nick Fury shows up unannounced one night with the news that Natasha has gone missing, plans quickly change. And soon it becomes a race not only to find her but to figure out the circumstances around her disappearance. (And, of course, for Steve, it might be time to figure out how he finally feels about her.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [2014 Marvel Big Bang](http://marvel-bang.livejournal.com). Thank you to galfridian for the amazing fanmix (which can be [listened to here](http://galfridian.tumblr.com/post/101705970092/called-out-in-the-dark-a-mix-for-somewhere-in-the)), and to A, W and C for the constant encouragement — of my writing and my Steve/Nat feels <333

**PROLOGUE**

It was almost déjà vu. He was sitting in a chair tucked away in the far corner of the living room. The lights were off. The speakers were on. Some type of classical music filled the air.

Steve saw him first, a split second after he entered the apartment, and stopped so suddenly that Sam ran into him. Immediately, Steve’s heart jumped into his throat.

“What’s wrong?” Steve breathed, but the twisting in his gut already told him what he didn’t want to know.

Fury stood up and moved closer to Steve and Sam. His brows were furrowed, the concern emanating from his eyes.

Steve unconsciously took a step back, almost knocking Sam over, as though the movement could change what Fury was about to say.

“It’s Romanoff,” Fury said. “She’s in trouble.”

**CHAPTER ONE**

[24 hours earlier]

Sam grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator and tossed a second one to Steve. “I think that went well,” he said.

Steve snorted. “You and I have very different ideas of the concept of ‘well.’”

Sam grinned. “You gotta admit, it was better than the other thirty-two times. At least this guy really _did_ have a metal arm.”

Steve popped the top off his water bottle. “There is that,” he said.

“And the information he gave us seems solid,” Sam said. 

“It always seems solid until we get there and there’s nothing there.”

“I don’t know.” Sam took a swig of his water. “I have a good feeling about this one. I think we might actually find him this time.”

“I’m beginning to think he doesn’t want to be found.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t find him.”

“Yeah.” Steve stared thoughtfully at his drink, his mind wandering. It wasn’t like he had expected this search for Bucky to go well. Or to even go easily. But every dead end after dead end was just making him feel more and more frustrated. Sometimes he wasn’t sure if it was even worth it anymore.

“How about Natasha?” Sam said now. “You get any more good leads from her?”

Steve shook his head. “I haven’t heard from her in a week or so,” he said. “I assume she’s working on her new cover.”

Sam frowned. “Isn’t that unusual? She’s been really good about checking in.”

Steve cracked a wry smile. “You don’t know Natasha,” he said. 

•••

_“Tell me about it. Your time here.”_

_They were at an old, rundown diner, a building Steve thought he vaguely remembered from seventy years ago, although he was sure it must not be the same one. But they had a few hours to kill — there was no use sneaking on to the fort until well past dark — and they both needed to eat._

_Natasha was picking at her fries and staring at him, her eyes wide and focused. “I want to know,” she said, and stuck a fry in her mouth._

_Steve studied her, trying once again to read her and failing. For almost two years, he had worked with her, ever since New York. They had been on countless missions together, sometimes just the two of them, but after all this time, he still wasn’t sure if he even knew her at all. It unnerved him._

_He wanted to trust her, and in some ways he did. She had never really let him down when it came to their missions, their moment on the Lumerian Star excepted, but at the same time, he was never quite sure who she really was or where she really stood. Deep down, he knew she was a good person, but he was pretty sure her idea of good and his fell on two completely different scales._

_She was still staring at him, though, analyzing his every move. He popped a fry in his own mouth._

_“It was another life,” he said. “A very different life.”_

_Natasha nodded, and picked up another fry. “I get that,” she said._

_It was his turn to study her. “Want to share?” he asked._

_She smirked. “Nice try,” was all she said._

•••

Steve couldn’t stop pacing.

“Are you sure?” he asked again for the tenth time in the same amount of minutes, but Nick Fury just nodded, calm and collected as always.

“She stopped contacting me about ten days ago,” he said. “We’ve been trying to reach her ever since. I’ve had Hill and Stark monitoring the situation. Today they got a lead.”

_Ten days._ Steve’s heart clenched. Ten days was a lifetime when you were in trouble. He glared at Fury.

“And you’re just telling me all this now?” he said sharply. Fury raised a brow.

“Why would I tell you before now? We had it covered.”

“You obviously didn’t! She’s _missing_! She could be hurt or de-” He stopped. He couldn’t even begin to think that. Besides, this was Natasha. If anyone could hold her own …

“You have your own search,” Fury said. “We didn’t want to get in the way.”

“But …” Steve started, but his words faltered. Fury wasn’t wrong. He and Sam did have their own thing. And Natasha had left them. She wasn’t his partner anymore. They weren’t even S.H.I.E.L.D. agents anymore. No one owed him anything when it came to her. So why did he feel like they did?

Fury was still staring at him curiously, much the same way Natasha used to stare at him, as though she were trying to look into his soul. 

“Is there something you’re not telling me, Captain?” Fury said now. “Between you and Agent Romanoff?”

“She’s not an agent anymore,” Steve said instinctively. It was easier than answering the question.

“Between you and Romanoff,” he corrected.

“She’s my friend. I care about her. I don’t want her hurt.”

“Neither do we,” Fury said. “It’s why I’m here.”

“I thought you were tracking the situation?” The words came out almost sarcastically.

“We are,” Fury said. “But we need you two to rescue her.”

•••

_He’d felt like he’d run for miles. Actually, that was probably true. He shifted her weight in his arms. She hadn’t moved at all since he’d picked her up and carried her out of the rubble. He knew she was just unconscious but he needed to make sure she was okay._

_The houses in this area were small and far apart. And thankfully mostly abandoned at this time of year. He found one with a cracked window and slipped in, Natasha still in his arms._

_He laid her down on the bed, quickly assessing her to make sure she wasn’t bleeding._

_She wasn’t._

_They didn’t have long, he knew that. They would find them. Whoever they were now. S.H.I.E.L.D. Hydra. They had sent a missile to kill them and then a ground crew to follow up. Steve had to get them somewhere safe._

_He reached out a finger and stroked her cheek. “Natasha,” he whispered. “Come on. Open your eyes for me.”_

_Nothing._

_“Natasha,” he said again, a little louder, and this time he used his other arm to shake her gently. “You have to wake up.”_

_She moaned._

_“That’s a girl,” he said. “Come on.”_

_She moaned again, and he watched as her eyes fluttered open. Automatically her hand went to her head._

_“Owwwww,” she groaned. Then she frowned as her eyes darted left and right. “Where are we?”_

_“Safe for a few minutes.”_

_She managed a smile. “A few minutes? Great.”_

_“How do you feel?”_

_She rubbed her head. “Like I could really use some aspirin. But otherwise I think I’m okay.”_

_“Good,” he said. “Because I think we’re going to have to run for it.”_

•••

Fury left them alone with the information. Sam booted up his laptop. It only made Natasha’s absence seem more prominent when they needed her for the computer work, but together they managed.

There were diagrams and maps and schematics and assessments of the amount of guards and other obstacles they would find.

Sam frowned at the screen. “If this really is revenge for something she’s done in her past,” he said. “why would they still be keeping her in the country? And still in New York? Wouldn’t it be easier to move her out of the country?”

Steve shrugged. He didn’t say it, but he had been wondering the same thing. 

“Maybe they haven’t had time.”

“Fury said it’s been ten days.”

Steve pursed his lips as another thought came to him. “Maybe they aren’t the ones who want revenge,” he said slowly. “Maybe they’re holding her for someone else.”

Sam glanced at him. “That makes sense,” he said. “But who?”

Steve shook his head. “She’s done a lot of things she’s not proud of,” he said, “and all those things are all over the internet now. That’s a lot of possible people with a lot of possible motives.”

“But not a lot of people can capture a super assassin,” Sam said. “I’ve seen that girl in action. She doesn’t let people get one over on her.”

“No,” Steve said. “She doesn’t.”

•••

_“I made breakfast. If you guys eat that kind of thing.” Sam smiled at them from the bedroom doorway. Steve glanced at Natasha and she nodded._

_He turned back to Sam. “We’ll be right there.”_

_Sam disappeared back down the hall, and Steve felt Natasha touch his arm. Lightly. Just a brush of her fingers._

_“You go,” she said. “I’m going to dry my hair.”_

_Steve turned back to her. Without thinking, he reached out and cupped her face in one of his hands. She didn’t try to pull away._

_“I meant what I said,” he told her seriously. “I trust you. I need you to trust me back.”_

_She frowned. “I trust you.”_

_“You trust me in a ‘I won’t let you get killed’ way. I need you to trust me more than that.”_

_She tilted her head to the side, pressing her cheek even more into his hand, and she smiled wryly. “I told you I’m not big on friends.”_

_“Ahhh, but you are very talented. I’m sure you can figure it out.”_

_He dropped his hand from her cheek and leaned in and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “We’re in this together, Nat. We’re a team.”_

_And then he headed out to the kitchen._


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Sam slumped over at the table, his chin resting on his hands, not expecting an answer to the question they both already knew the answer to. The phone that Steve had just slammed down still lay in the middle of all their spread out paperwork showing the schematics of the place they thought Natasha was being kept at.

Of course their lead on Bucky would pan out now. Of course this lead was the one that was right. Of course the timeframe of this lead was only a few short hours.

For the past three months, Steve had been grateful every day that he had Maria and Tony, and even Bruce, watching his back and helping him out with the search for Bucky, so of course he and Sam had passed on their lead they had gotten from the man with the metal arm. But of all the days and all the leads that never panned out, why did they have to find one that did today?

Even Maria knew what it meant.

“I’m sorry,” she had said after she told him. “Do what you think is right. No one will judge you.”

But that was the problem.

Steve ran his hands through his hair. _Nothing_ about this situation was right. Nothing about this situation was fair. He looked over at Sam, who was still staring at the phone, looking as helpless as he felt.

“How do we do this?” Steve asked the silent room. He wasn’t really asking Sam either. After all, how was Sam supposed to answer? “We’ve been searching for _months_. For months. And we’re so close. If we don’t act now ….”

Steve trailed off. 

“I know,” Sam said. “We’ll probably lose him. And we’ll have to find him again. And that could take more months. It could not happen at all. … Maria is sure about this?”

“She says she got confirmation from two people. Two very trusted people.”

“Of course she did.” Sam frowned. “She didn’t have any other options, did she? Maybe a few Avengers who want to help out?”

Steve shook his head. “Tony hasn’t worn the suit since the operation,” he said. “He’s not … well, he’s not up for it. Either mission. And this isn’t really Bruce’s kind of thing. And everyone else … well, there is no one else. No one trusts anyone else enough.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “I get that.” He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. Steve felt like doing the same thing.

“How do I choose?” Steve finally said, and he knew the misery was obvious in his voice. “Bucky is my best friend. He was all I had for so long, and he is in trouble. I know he is. He was the one who saved my life, and I owe it to him. I owe it to him to save his. But she …”

Steve trailed off. How did he explain what he was feeling when it came to Natasha? That the thought of her probably being tortured right now was killing him? That he should have known something was wrong when she stopped calling him instead of assuming she had just moved on. She had called him almost regularly, and then he didn’t even think twice when she didn’t, simply assuming she didn’t care. What kind of friend was he? What kind of _person_ was he? If she was hurt now, if she didn’t make it … 

He couldn’t think about that. He couldn’t even let himself imagine that. He tried again to find words. “But she …”

“She is the woman you love,” Sam said, and for a second, Steve had almost forgotten he was there.

He heard his words, though. Loud and clear. His head snapped up. “What?” He started. “I don’t … we’re not …”

“No,” Sam cut in. “Don’t even give me that. I know you love her. It’s written all over your face every time you mention her name. And believe me, you mention her name an awful lot.”

“I do not,” Steve said. “She just comes up in relevant conversation.”

“Mmmmhmmm.”

“Besides,” Steve protested, “even if I did, what would it matter? _She_ doesn’t love me.”

Sam practically snorted. “I beg to differ.”

“You beg to differ?”

“I tell ya, I saw the way you _both_ looked at each other. And that woman calls you _all_ the time. And don’t tell me you’re just talking about what she’s up to. She’s supposed to be underground building a new secret identity, and instead she’s chatting you up about Chinese food — don’t look at me like that! I heard you guys talking — It’s just you both are so damn stubborn. You want to be all old-fashioned and traditional. She doesn’t want to let anyone in. But, man, come on!”

“Okay, okay,” Steve said, but his head was spinning. Natasha was his friend. That he knew for sure. He trusted her. With his life. He would do anything for her, he was sure of that. But did he love her? He rubbed at his chin. How could he have not known? 

“I love her?” he asked himself quietly, and he knew Sam was grinning at him. “Don’t say it,” he warned.

Sam laughed. “I was not going to say anything. Except that I guess you’ve decided?”

Steve glared at him. “You know it was never a choice,” he said. 

He turned away from Sam and walked into the other room, staring out the window. It hadn’t ever been a choice. Bucky had made it this far. Bucky didn’t need someone to find him. Natasha had been missing for ten days. Natasha needed help. 

But still … Steve placed his hands on the window ledge and shut his eyes. Guilt washed over him.

“I’m sorry, Bucky,” he whispered into the silence, and then added softly, “Just hang on for me, Nat. We’re coming.”

•••

_He couldn’t sleep. The bed in the underground bunker wasn’t exactly the most comfortable, but he had slept on worse. But his insomnia had nothing to do with the bed. Or the claustrophobia of the bunker. Or the not-so-pleasant smell in the air. It had to do with the thoughts that wouldn’t stop running through his head._

_Bucky._

_Bucky was alive and he was out there and Steve was going to see him tomorrow. Steve was probably going to have to fight him tomorrow._

_And then there was S.H.I.E.L.D._

_S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t what he thought it was. It was Hydra. Or it was part Hydra. And now they had to destroy it, burn it to the ground. The one thing he had been part of since he returned, the one thing he had counted on to be safe and stable. What would he do when that was no longer an option? He needed to be doing something, he needed to be helping people. How did he do that without other people to help?_

_And Fury._

_Fury who they mourned. Fury who he had struggled to understand. The guy was full of secrets, but whose good were they for? And now he was alive and he was here and they were going to do this. And he had a plan. He had known all along. This had always been his plan._

_Maybe the end of S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t a bad thing._

_Steve heard a creak. Instantly, he was out of bed and standing, posed, reaching for his shield, his senses ready._

_“It’s just me.”_

_He sank back on to the bed. She climbed in next to him._

_“You shouldn’t sneak around at night.”_

_“I sneak around at all times of day.”_

_“I told you to stop sneaking around with me.”_

_“It’s a bad habit.”_

_She grew quiet. He waited for her to talk. He knew she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t have anything to say._

_“I thought he was dead,” she finally said._

_“I know,” he said. “I did too.”_

_“I thought he trusted me.”_

_“He does.”_

_“No, he doesn’t,” she said, and she sounded almost sad. “He came to you that night. He only let me in because I’m with you.”_

_“Natasha ….”_

_“I think you’re the only one who trusts me.”_

_“Nat …”_

_She cut him off with a press of her lips against his, hard and intense, her hands reaching for the bottom of his t-shirt._

_“Natasha,” he mumbled, but he didn’t stop her._

_“Please,” she whispered. “I just need a distraction.”_

_He didn’t answer or tell her he needed one, too. Instead he just kissed her back._

•••

He and Sam left D.C. in the early hours of the morning, speeding along back roads as much as possible. Neither of them had a lot to say, but the tension from the quiet was almost suffocating.

Steve stared at Sam, wondering how much to tell him.

“What?” Sam said. “Just tell me. I can see you want to get it off your chest.”

“Natasha and I had sex.”

“I know.”

“What?” Steve stared at him. “How would you …?”

“The night you got out of the hospital. You were at my apartment, you know.”

“Oh.” Steve shook his head. “No, not then. We didn’t. We just … we didn’t have sex. She was nervous about the hearing. I wasn’t … we didn’t ….”

“Natasha gets nervous?”

“Don’t tell her I told you.”

“So? What? You and the Black Widow were just cuddling?” Sam said. “She doesn’t strike me as the cuddling type.”

“We just slept.”

“Okay, fine. You just slept. But you had sex with her?”

“The night before we took down the Triskillian.”

Sam almost swerved off the road.

“What?” he said. “The night we were in the bunker?”

Steve nodded. 

“How? What? Why? And why are you telling me this?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s not the kind of thing I do. Or talk about. And I haven’t … not since I woke up … but … I was thinking about it.”

“Oh,” Sam said. “I got it.”

“You got what?”

“You’re trying to figure out when you fell in love with her.”

“It was just sex. It didn’t mean anything.”

“To her or to you?”

Steve sighed and shook his head, a forced laugh making its way out. “I wish I knew.”

•••

_For being a hospital, it was very quiet at night. Sam had left hours ago, once visiting hours were over, and Steve wasn’t scheduled for another nurse rotation for a few more from now. It was good to have Sam here with him for so much of the time. He felt an instant camaraderie for the guy, and he trusted him completely._

_He didn’t hear the door open or hear her slip in until she crawled into bed beside him. But this time it didn’t surprise him. It was almost like he had been waiting for her._

_“You need to stop doing that,” he whispered to her._

_She scooted closer to him and put her head on his chest. She slung her right arm across his body. Steve had a feeling this was the most intimate Natasha ever got with anyone._

_“I told you it’s a bad habit,” she said. She propped her chin up on his chest. “You scared me,” she said._

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“You tell me to trust you, and then you almost die on me.”_

_He managed a smile. “I’m sorry,” he said._

_She dropped her head back down, burying her face in his chest._

_“Don’t do it again,” she mumbled._

_He reached up with his right arm and placed a hand on her back, rubbing it gently, trying to let her know he was still there and he still meant every word he’d ever told her. Part of him expected her to shove him away from her, but she didn’t. Instead he thought he felt her fingers grip him just a bit tighter._

_He waited until he was pretty sure she was asleep before he spoke._

_“I won’t,” he said._


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Sam pulled the car up the road and killed the engine. They were deep into the country, nothing to be seen but abandoned shacks. But if their information was right — and they had no reason to believe it wasn’t — one of those abandoned shacks was actually a gateway to an underground holding area where _someone_ was keeping Natasha.

Steve scanned the area around them. It was so dark out there, not even a moon tonight to light the way, and it was quiet.

He squinted at something in the distance.

“There,” he said to Sam, and pointed. A glint of metal. And another one. And another one.

“Guards,” Sam breathed.

“We’re in the right spot,” Steve said.

“Okay, then,” Sam said.

Steve took a breath. “You know what to do?”

“We’ve gone over the plan twenty times.”

“I know. It’s just …”

Sam clapped his shoulder, and when Steve turned to look at him, Sam’s eyes were soft. “We’re not leaving here without her.”

Steve inhaled another lungful of air and climbed out of the car. It was time. 

•••

He counted ten guards hidden around the complex. Who knew how many there were underground, or what other contraptions were in the way?

Steve turned to look at Sam one last time. “Are you ready?” he asked. 

“Are you?”

Steve nodded. “Just keep them occupied as long as you can. I’ll radio you when she’s safe.”

Sam nodded. “On three,” he said. “Let’s do this.”

Steve smirked. “Three,” he said, and Sam laughed — “Cheater!” — before launching into the air. Hopefully none of their enemies would look up.

Steve studied the guards again. They were all in the same basic area. If he could sneak around back …

He took off, crouching low to the ground, running as swiftly as he dared. All his months of training had given him the ability to be almost silent, and even as he slipped through the weeds, he doubted anyone could hear him over the sound of the breeze.

As he ran, he scanned the area. Every once in awhile he could see the glint of silver wings flash in the night sky and he knew Sam was ready.

In just a few minutes …

He slowed down as he came around to the back of the gatehouse shack. He knew there were going to be guards inside, and as he drew close, he saw two out back as well.

He poked his earpiece. “Ready,” he whispered into it.

Sam didn’t answer, but Steve waited, and as expected, thirty seconds later a loud cry emerged from the front of the shack from one of the guards. Then more cries and the sound of an intense scuffle.

The two guards behind the shack took off to see what the commotion was about, and Steve seized the moment, slipping inside. 

The guards inside — there were four — were on him almost instantly, but he was ready. A few flips and twists and well placed blows and they were down for the count.

The shack was basically one room, except for a door on the far side. Steve hurried over, and as he expected, there was a hole that led down.

He didn’t see any stairs, but he knew this was it.

He lowered himself down and waited, but no alarms went off. 

He looked around. It was basically an underground prison. From where he was, he could count four rows of cells, all of them empty. At least the ones in front. 

He opted for the ones furthest away and took off running down the middle row. It smelled horrible in this place, like rotting flesh and decaying bodies, even though he didn’t see any anywhere. He wondered how many other people had been held here.

Once he got to the far end of the row, she was easy to find. There was only one cell — tucked away in a back corner — with someone in it.

He drew closer. The cell contained an old ragged cot, with a ratty dirty sheet, but Natasha wasn’t on the bed. She was lying on the ground, face down, her hair preventing him from seeing her. But he knew by the way she was lying, limbs at odd angles, that she couldn’t have been conscious.

He moved even closer, until he could finally get a good look at her, and stopped short. He had seen a lot of atrocities in his time. Hell, he had even committed some. But seeing Natasha …

He felt the bile rise in his throat.

Her arms were stretched above her head, cuffed together at her wrists and then chained to the prison wall. Her ankles were cuffed and chained as well.

She didn’t have on a single item of clothing, but she looked like she did. She was covered in dried blood, with fresh trails of it flowing on top of the dried portion, all down her back and her legs. The sight filled him with such a fury he thought he could literally snap someone’s neck in half if he found out who hurt her.

For once, since he and Sam had arrived at this godforsaken place, he didn’t care about being quiet. His mind was filled with fury. He wanted to kill anyone and everyone who got in his way.

The prison railings were steel, but they were old and rusty, and they were no match at all for his shield. He cracked the lock in half and ripped the door open, not even caring about the loud clanging it made. All he cared about was her. 

He darted inside and dropped to his knees beside her. His hand reached out desperately, his fingers landing on her neck, searching.

He let out a soft whiff of air as he felt it. A soft beating under blood-matted flesh.

She was alive. At least it was something. He leaned down, pushing her hair back from her face.

“It’s Steve. I’ve got you,” he whispered into her ear, even though he knew she couldn’t hear him. “I’m going to get you out of here. You’re safe.”

One look at the cuffs on her hands and he knew it would take some effort to free her from them — effort and time he didn’t have at the moment. The rage he felt was still there, but he had to contain it. Sam could handle the guards that were here, but if someone called for backup. Or if someone else set off an alarm … Who knew how much time they had?

He picked up his shield and wacked hard at the end where the chain binding her hands met the wall. Two smacks in and he heard the groan of metal as it shattered. He moved to her feet and did the same thing with the chain that bound her ankles. A few strokes and it came apart from the wall as well.

He looked around. His eyes landed on the cot.

He grabbed the sheet that was on it. It wasn’t very big, but it would do. He stretched it out and placed it over her, carefully wrapping it around her as he scooped her up and gently positioned her over his shoulder. 

He moved carefully back into the hall and checked out the rows. So far, it was still clear, but he had a feeling that wouldn’t last long. He raced back toward where he had come from, his shield positioned so it covered Natasha. 

At the end of the room, just under the hole that marked the entrance, he paused. He had to jump up, and he had a feeling.

Yup. He heard a sound.

He bent down and leaped, his shield flying out as he shot through the air, bashing someone straight in the face. The guy went flying. He kicked out at a second one and then knocked a third in the chest with his head. He moved past him and sent him flying down into the hole.

The door to the shack flew open.

Fuck.

At least ten more guards streamed in. And these ones had rifles. 

He sent the shield flying, aiming it at the first one and hoping the ricochet effect worked. Three went down. He lunged at another, careful to use his feet and keep the guards away from Natasha, who was still limp over his shoulder. He could feel moisture under his left hand where he was holding her, and he knew she was bleeding.

The guards moved in closer. Steve aimed the shield again and let it fly.

And then a blast filled the air.

Steve ducked instinctively, his free hand going up over the back of Natasha’s head, covering her. The guards in front of him crumpled. He looked up.

Sam was framed in the doorway, his face gritty and determined, rifles in his hands. Steve saw his eyes move to Natasha and a look of horror crossed his face. A few moments later, Sam shook his head, as though to force himself out of a daze. 

“Come on!” Sam shouted at Steve, and Steve didn’t waste any time, scooping up his shield that was lying in the middle of the floor and heading to the door.

“They called in the reinforcements!” Sam shouted. 

“I noticed!”

“What do you want to do?”

Steve grabbed Sam’s shoulder to keep him from running. Sam jerked to a stop.

“What?” Sam said, turning around.

Steve was already shifting Natasha off his shoulder.

“Take her. Get her to the car. I’ll meet you there.”

“You’re going to run?”

“You can’t lift us both.”

“I can …”

“Not well. Just take her. I’ll be there a few minutes after you.”

Sam nodded. He stretched out his arm and let Steve place Natasha into it, positioning her so she was across Sam’s chest but not in the way of his wings. Sam glanced down at her and then at Steve.

“What did they do to her?” he whispered. 

“Go!” Steve said. “Just go!”

Sam didn’t wait a second longer. His wings flew open and he shot into the air. Steve could see the guards coming and he took a deep breath. Knock them out and don’t let them see Sam with Natasha.

He positioned his shield, waited a few seconds and then ran straight for them.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER FOUR**

“We should take her to a hospital.”

Sam was driving, a little like a madman, careening down old dirt roads at ninety miles an hour. Steve glanced up at him from his seat in the back, Natasha across his lap, his fingers running through her matted curls. She hadn’t moved since they found her, but every few minutes Steve checked her pulse to be sure to be sure she was still with them.

It was constant. And strong. Whatever those people had done to her, she was a survivor.

“No,” Steve said now back to Sam.

“Man, I really think …”

“No,” Steve said. “They’re going to be looking for her. For us. They’ll find her.”

“We can use a different name.”

“Look at her. You think no one’s going to notice a woman covered in blood with handcuffs on her wrists and ankles?”

“She needs a doctor.”

“I know.”

“Okay, soooo …”

“Call Fury,” Steve said. “He’s got to know someone he trusts. Have him meet us at your place.”

“And if she still needs a hospital?”

“Let’s see what the doctor says.”

•••

He should have known it wouldn’t have been just a doctor. It was all three of them, waiting quietly, in the dark.

“Do you guys never turn on lights?” Sam said when he entered. 

“You never know who’s watching,” Fury said.

Maria didn’t answer. She was already across the room to where Steve was carrying a still unconscious Natasha, reaching for her and turning her so she could get a better look.

“Damn,” she whispered, her eyes travelling down Natasha’s body, pausing at the cuffs still on her wrists. She turned to the doctor and pointed toward the guest bedroom. “In here.”

“How does she know where everything is?” Sam said.

“We always know where everything is,” Fury replied.

“Of course you do,” Sam answered as Steve followed Maria and the doctor into the bedroom, placing Natasha down on the bed. Someone flipped on the light switch, and as the light flooded the room, he could see how pale she was beneath all the blood.

“Steve,” Maria said. “Maybe you should wa-”

“No,” he replied instantly. “I’m not leaving her.”

He thought Maria might argue, but she didn’t. Instead she turned and went back to the living room. Steve heard her ask Sam for towels and tools to get the cuffs off.

Steve watched as the doctor worked. It was hard to know the extent of Natasha’s injuries from all the blood, but he watched as the doctor checked her heart and her breathing and ran his hands over her arms and legs and ribs to see if anything was broken.

Finally, the doctor turned to Steve and Maria.

“I can’t be sure what they’ve given her, until we can test a sample of her blood,” he said. “And I’m cautious about doing that until her wounds have healed. But nothing appears broken. A lot of bruises. Breathing and heart rare is normal. I suspect they drugged her to keep her unconscious, and probably beat her to subdue her, but I don’t believe they did anything other than that.”

“Probably wanted to torture her later,” Maria said quietly. “After they moved her.”

“I’m going to find them, and I am going to kill them,” Steve muttered. Maria put a hand on his arm, as if in warning, then she turned to the doctor. 

“What is all the blood from?” she asked.

The doctor rubbed his chin. “I do not think it’s all hers,” he said. “Although she does have some deep wounds on her arms. I will have to keep an eye on them over the next few days to make sure they don’t become infected. But they appear to no longer be bleeding.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Maria said. She glanced at Natasha and then Steve, then turned back to the doctor. “We can take it from here.”

The doctor nodded and left the room, closing it behind him. Maria picked up two of the towels and tossed them to Steve.

“Let’s clean her up,” she said. “And get these cuffs off of her.”

•••

It took them two hours to get the blood off her and to bandage all her wounds. With every new inch of skin they cleaned, Steve could see the dark bruises on her flesh, and with every new bruise, the fury he felt inside seemed to intensify ten-fold. He had never wanted to kill anymore more in his life than the people responsible for this.

“How did they even find her?” he said to Maria as they worked, and she shook her head. 

“We don’t know,” she said. She looked up at him. “Did she tell you where she was? I know you talked.”

“No,” he said. “We just … we talked about other things. She never gave me specifics. And I assume her phone is untraceable.”

“It should be,” Maria said. 

“She’s always careful,” Steve said softly. “About everything.”

“It’s not your fault, Steve,” Maria said.

“I should have protected her.”

“You didn’t know.”

“I could have not let her go.”

“You and I both know it wouldn’t have mattered. Natasha does what she wants. She would never have stayed even if you asked her to.”

Maria put down her towel, now covered in blood, and stood up. She moved over to Steve, reaching out and putting a hand on his shoulder.

“You found her. That’s the important part.”

“No,” he said. “The important part is to find out who did this to her, and make sure they never get another chance.”

•••

Fury, Maria and the doctor slipped out as the first strands of sun began to come over the horizon.

“I’m posting guards all around,” Fury told them. “If they try again, we’ll get them.”

“I thought there weren’t guards left anymore,” Steve said, and Fury smiled. 

“If you think that, you don’t know me very well,” he said. And then they were gone.

“We should get some sleep,” Sam said, and Steve frowned at him.

“What?” Sam said. “I assumed you would want to sleep next to her.”

“I do,” Steve said. “I just …”

“Look,” Sam said. “There’s only so much we can do until she wakes up and can tell us what happened. We should rest now.”

Steve looked around Sam’s apartment. He knew Sam was right. Sleep sounded nice, but every little noise was like someone pulling on his nerves. He had missed it once, let her go missing without even realizing. He wasn’t going to miss anything again.

“Fury said there’s guards,” Sam said, as though he could read Steve’s mind. He probably could, after the past three months together.

“I know,” Steve said, “I just feel more comfortable when I’m doing the guarding.”

“You _will_ be doing the guarding,” Sam said. “You’ll be right there next to her. That’s better than standing outside looking for ghosts in the sky.”

Steve nodded. He knew Sam was right. 

“Point taken,” he said.

“Then go then,” Sam said. “Take care of her. Yell if you need me.”

“Oh, you know I will.”

•••

He was careful not to bump her or lie too close to her. He didn’t want to hurt her any more than she already was. He crawled into bed next to her and lay on his side, keeping a few inches of space between them.

Besides the bruises all over her — but there were barely any on her face, which made Steve wonder yet again what had happened — she looked peaceful. And beautiful. 

He couldn’t help himself. He reached out and softly ran his fingers through her damp curls. They’d had to wash her hair a little to get all the blood out, and not all of it had dried again. 

He knew she still couldn’t hear him, but he couldn’t help himself.

“We’ll find out who did this to you, Nat, and they won’t touch you again,” he told her. “But we need you to wake up, okay, so you can help us?”

He leaned up and pressed his lips to her temple. She was warm under his touch. Warm and alive.

For that he was grateful.

He sank back down on the bed beside her, far enough away that he wouldn’t hurt her but close enough that he could protect her in a moment’s notice, and then closed his eyes.

It seemed like it was mere seconds later he was opening them again. He’d heard a noise. He sat up, his eyes darting around the room. 

He heard it again. Soft, so soft.

Natasha.

He turned his head. She hadn’t moved but her lips were parted slightly. As he watched, she moaned softly.

He didn’t hesitate. He reached out, slid his fingers between hers and squeezed her hand.

“Nat,” he said. “You’re okay. You’re safe. Open your eyes. You can do it.”

She moaned again, but this time he saw her eyes start to flutter. He squeezed her hand again.

“Come on,” he told her. “You got this.”

A few seconds later and her eyes opened all the way. He watched as she blinked in terror and then started as she saw Steve sitting by her.

“Hey.” He placed his other hand on her chest, very gently pressing her back down on to the bed. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he didn’t want her to hurt herself. “You’re okay,” he said.

She blinked some more, the fear in her eyes fading to obvious confusion. He watched as she scanned the room, scanned him. It amazed him to watch her, to see the confusion then turn almost instantly to recognition. 

He felt her body relax underneath his touch, and he knew she had assessed the situation fully.

“How did you get me out?” she whispered. Her voice sounded hoarse, like she hadn’t used it much in the past couple weeks. 

She probably hadn’t. 

“Sam and I knocked out a lot of bad guys.” He smiled and lifted his hand off her chest. He knew she wasn’t going to go anywhere. He put his hand back on his own leg, but a few seconds later, she reached out and took that hand, too.

She never did anything unconsciously, and he didn’t think this was any different. It was her way of saying thank you.

“Do you remember what happened?” he asked her.

She stared at him for a few moments without speaking. Then she glanced away. She didn’t move either of her hands from his hold, though.

“I don’t know how they found me,” she said, and was that a waver in her voice? “I was careful.” If it was, it was gone now. “I stayed out of sight, the phone was untraceable, I didn’t use anything that was trackable.”

She looked back at him. “I only talked to you and Fury and once to Hill. That’s all.”

For a second, Steve felt a knot twist in his stomach.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” he said quickly. “Neither did Sam. We …”

“I know,” she said, and she squeezed his hands. “I know it wasn’t from you. Or Fury. Or Maria. They wouldn’t have … These people. It was different. I didn’t even see them. Not until it was too late.”

“Tell me,” Steve said.

“I was hiding out,” she said. “I was careful. I came in, I looked around. I checked the windows. There was nothing. And then …”

She paused, and he watched as she ran her tongue over her bottom lip, searching for words. 

“And then I heard a noise,” she said. “But it was too late. There were too many of them. All around. One second they weren’t there and then they were. They grabbed me — all of them — and I tried …. I fought them, but …”

She trailed off again, and this time Steve thought he saw her lip quiver. She turned her head so he couldn’t see her eyes.

“It’s not your fault, Nat,” he said.

“I didn’t see them.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I was stupid.”

“It’s not your fault.”

She turned her head back to him, her lips twisting into a wry smile. “They never told me what they wanted,” she said. “They just told me I would ‘like it’. And they fought me. All the time. Every day. Like they wanted to see me fight so they could see me lose.”

She shrugged. “After the second day, I stopped fighting back. It was easier to let them win.”

“They drugged you,” Steve said. It wasn’t really a question.

Natasha nodded. “I don’t know what it was,” she said. “But after the fights, they forced these pills down my throat. Once or twice, I faked them out, but they caught on. I always woke up hours later, just in time for them to fight me again.”

Steve sucked in a breath of air. He had one more question, and he wasn’t sure quite how to ask it.

“They didn’t … you weren’t … they never …” He trailed off, the words mangled in his mind.

It didn’t matter. Natasha understood. She shook her head. “No,” she said. “They didn’t try to rape me.”

Steve’s shoulders sagged under the weight of his relief. 

“We’re going to find the people responsible,” he told her. “And we’re going to make them pay.”

“Who’s we?” she said.

“Me,” Steve said. “Definitely me. Sam. Maybe Fury. Hill. I’m sure Tony knows. You know Clint would help. Hell, we’ll call up all the Avengers. Nobody hurts you, Natasha, and gets away with it.”

“Just don’t forget me,” she said, and he frowned a little.

“Nat …”

“It’s my fight,” she said, and he knew from her tone she was deadly serious. “I want payback. You can’t get it without me.”

“Okay,” he said, relenting. “And you. No fight without you.”

“Good.”

“Now you need to sleep,” he told her.

“I’ve been sleeping for days.”

“Then I need to sleep and you need to watch me.”

She smiled. “Okay,” but she yawned right after. Steve didn’t say anything, just smiled at her.

He lay down next to her, keep hold of one of her hands. A few seconds later, she scooted over, a soft “ow” emanating from her lips, but then her head was on his chest.

“Thank you for getting me,” she whispered. “I owe you another.”

“Don’t even mention it,” he said, just before he drifted off.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER FIVE**

“So are you okay with having another houseguest?” Natasha said to Sam later that night. Steve had woken up to her fingers poking him in the side and her whining how she couldn’t stay in bed any longer. She seemed to move okay, albeit slowly and a bit painfully, but she was leaning against the kitchen counter now, grinning at Sam like she had those months before when they were all together right after they’d taken down Hydra.

“And if I say I’m not?”

“I’d say too bad.”

“Good thing I’m okay with it then.” He set a plate of pancakes down in front of her. She looked at him curiously. “I assume they didn’t really feed you,” he clarified, and she shook her head as she accepted the fork he handed her.

“Not really.”

“Then eat,” Sam said. He looked up at Steve. “Want some?” he asked, and when Sam nodded assent, Sam turned back to Natasha. “I am glad to see you awake and a lot less bloody.”

She smirked, but it quickly faded.

“Thank you,” she said, and there wasn’t any joking in her tone. “For helping to rescue me.”

“Hey,” Sam said. “You really think I would have said no and listened to this guy mope for days?”

Natasha rolled her eyes as she glanced at Steve. “He does mope a lot.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Sam met Steve’s eyes, a silent question passing between them, and Steve just barely shook his head. No, he hadn’t told Natasha they rescued her over finding Bucky.

Natasha was shoveling pancakes into her mouth. “These are good,” she said.

“I’m glad you approve.”

“Eating on the run is terrible for good food.”

“Guess it depends where you run to,” Sam said.

“Yeah,” she answered. “I guess it does.”

They drifted into silence for a few minutes, everyone eating, Sam and Steve glancing at Natasha every few seconds, as though to make sure she was still there and not actually going anywhere. 

“Okay,” she finally said. “Stop staring at me. Both of you.”

“We’re not staring,” they both said in unison, and she shook her head and laughed. 

“Sure you’re not,” she said, and they both shrugged.

“How about we talk about something else then?” she said, “Like the search for Bucky?”

“Just dead-ends,” Steve said, almost too quickly. She shot him a look, but she didn’t say anything.

“I could help you,” she finally said.

“First things first,” Steve said. 

“Okay,” she said. “Then let’s find out who was after me.”

•••

They called in all their sources, anyone and everyone they still trusted. Maria and Fury did most of it, hidden away in Avengers Tower, nowhere near Sam, Steve and Natasha, in case anyone was still looking for her. And they were all sure someone was still looking for her.

Natasha, Steve and Sam mostly stayed hidden, inside Sam’s apartment, only going out one by one when they absolutely needed to, and even then, only Steve or Sam. Most of their time was spent on the computer, searching for leads and any clues that might lead them to who had taken Natasha.

“Did they say anything at all to you?” Steve said one afternoon. It had been a week, and there was no luck. Everyone was tired and frustrated, especially Natasha, who hadn’t been allowed outside by either Steve or Sam the entire time. She wasn’t used to being cooped up, and they both knew she wasn’t happy about it.

“No!” she snapped, and the exasperation was obvious. Steve saw her hands clench at her sides. “I told you no one said anything! Stop asking me!”

Steve looked up at her, but he didn’t react. He knew how upset she was — and she had every right to be — but it always surprised him when she let others know it. But he also didn’t want to make her feel in any way that she couldn’t be open with them.

“I’m sorry,” he said calmly. “I’m not questioning you. I just want to make sure we’ve covered everything. That you are absolutely sure no one said or did anything that could help us.” He stared her directly in the eyes.

She stopped fidgeting. “What are you really trying to ask me?” she said, and there was an edge to her voice. She was warning him.

“I’m just saying we can’t help if we don’t have all the information,” he told her softly.

“You have all the information.”

“All of it?”

She glared. “What do you want me to do, Steve?” she said, and for the first time in the two years he had known her, he heard her voice break, although he wasn’t totally sure it wasn’t on purpose. “Tell you every detail of my past? It’s on the internet. Just read it.”

“Nat,” he softly. “Don’t be that way. We just want to help.”

“Well, stop helping,” she said, and she got up from the couch and stalked across the hall to the guest bedroom where she went inside and slammed the door.

•••

He was almost afraid he would open the door and find her gone. He knew how tempted she was to get away, and he had a feeling getting away from him and Sam was now part of it too.

But when he stepped into the bedroom, she was still there, curled up in the fetal position on the bed, looking more vulnerable than he’d ever seen her.

He walked over to her and sat on the edge beside her, facing her. She peered up at him but she didn’t say anything. Her fingers were to her mouth, and her teeth were clenched.

“I’m sorry,” he told her. “I’m not trying to snoop. I don’t want to snoop. I want you to tell me what you want to tell me. That’s what it means to be a friend.”

“I’m not a very good friend,” she said, and her voice was low.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” he said, and she smiled weakly at that.

“I saw something yesterday,” she said, “when I was doing research.”

The way she said it told Steve she didn’t mean something about her.

“Okay,” he said.

“You had a lead on Bucky. From Maria. But you chose to save me over him.” She paused. “Why?”

“Natasha …”

“No, I’m asking,” she said. “Why? He was your best friend. And he’s being hurt.”

“ _You_ were being hurt.”

“But he was only going to be there for that day. You could have gotten me later.”

“We didn’t know that. No one knew where you were for ten days.”

“I would have risked it,” she said. “If I were you.”

“You’re not me.”

“Tell me why,” she said. “Why would you do that? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Because,” Steve said, and he paused. He had told her before he was always honest, and he wanted to be this time, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to tell her the entire truth when he was still figuring it out himself. He settled for something close enough. “I care about you.”

“You care about me? How do you care about me?”

“Natasha.”

“Please.” And she reached out when she said it, grasping his hand. “How do you care about me?”

Steve reached up with his other hand and scratched his head. “Sam thinks I love you,” he finally said. It was also close enough to the truth to count.

She sucked in a breath, but she didn’t look all that surprised. “Do you?” she said.

“Does it matter?” he asked instead.

She pursed her lips. “It does if you want something in return,” she said. “I don’t do love.”

He squeezed her hand. “I know,” he whispered. “And you don’t have to,” and he leaned in and kissed her. Not the kiss of an undercover mission or of late-night desperation, but a real genuine kiss. And to his surprise — and if he was honest with himself, also to his relief — she kissed him back.

•••

She fell asleep in his arms, her head on his chest, her red hair spread out everywhere. Her right arm dangled across his body, her fingers touching the bare skin of his arm, and he felt tingles. They hadn’t done anything more than kiss, but he could still felt the warmth where her lips touched his. And with her weight on him now as she let him protect her, he just wanted to wrap her up and never let her go.

He was beginning to have a horrible feeling that Sam was right. He was in love with a woman who he didn’t think was ever going to love him back.

He looked down at her as she slept. For the most part, she seemed back to normal. She tired more easily than she had before and the bruises were still visible up and down her pale flesh, but she moved fine and there didn’t seem to be any lasting repercussions. Even the deeper wounds in her arms were healing nicely.

There were repercussions for him, though. Every time he looked at her, he saw her, lying bloodied and bruised on the prison floor, and he wanted to kill anyone who had ever wronged her. 

If they ever found the people who had kidnapped her.

As if on cue, a knock came on the bedroom door, just seconds before it swung open and Sam’s head appeared. In an instant, Natasha was awake, sliding off Steve and peering at Sam over Steve’s body.

Steve kept his arm wrapped around her.

Sam held up a phone. “You have a phone call from the director, Sleeping Beauties.”

Natasha was on her feet and reaching for it first. 

“Nick?” she said, and Sam and Steve watched as she paused, her brow furrowed. “No,” she finally huffed. “You need to tell it to _me_.” She marched into the bathroom and shut the door.

Steve shrugged at Sam, who smirked.

“So you and …” Sam started, gesturing between Steve and the closed bathroom door.

“No,” Steve said quickly. “No. Nothing … well, we kissed, but nothing …”

Sam laughed. “Well, way to go, man!” he said, as the bathroom door swung back open and Natasha stepped back into the room.

“We’re going to New York,” she said.

“We are?” Steve said.

“Nick says they have a lead.”

“Okay,” Sam said.

“He won’t tell us over the phone. He wants us there.”

Steve frowned a little. “He didn’t want to talk to me?”

“I am perfectly capable of relaying messages, Rogers,” Natasha snapped. “Now let’s get ready.”


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER SIX**

They left at nightfall, taking Sam’s car despite Natasha’s vehement protests that she knew better than Sam where they were going so they should let her drive.

“I am perfectly capable of driving,” she said.

“Of course you are,” Sam told her. “But how are we all supposed to fit in that tiny thing? I have more room. I win.”

“Why does this always come down to who’s bigger? I could kick your ass.”

“Yes, you could,” Sam said. “Now get in the car. Steve already called shotgun.”

Natasha seethed. Sam laughed. Steve tried to pretend he wasn’t paying any attention to either of them.

They arrived close to midnight, a little later than planned after Natasha kept making Sam stop at various gas stations so she could stock up on snacks.

“Seriously?” he said to her after the third stop. “Are you even eating anything? You could practically open your own snack shop back there.”

“You wanted to drive,” she said in a singsong voice.

“No more stops,” Sam growled.

“What if I have to pee?”

“You’re a big girl. You can hold it.”

“I was tortured for days. You should be nicer to me.”

“You’ve been torturing me for days. You should be nicer.”

“That is not the same thing and you know it,” Natasha huffed, but Steve could hear the amusement in her voice. “Tell him, Steve.”

“Oh, no,” he said. “I am not getting involved in this.”

“If you want to date me, you should defend me,” she said, and Sam immediately snorted.

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” Steve said. He couldn’t decide if he was annoyed with her for making it into a joke when she knew how he felt or if he should consider it a positive sign that she was bringing it up.

“That’s how it’s going to be,” she said, and he heard her rip open a bag of something. A second later he heard the crunch of a potato chip.

“See?” she said, her mouth full. “I’m eating, Sam.”

Sam shook his head. Steve decided he wasn’t really annoyed at all.

•••

They all met them at the door, like they were a superhero welcome party or something — Tony dressed in a white shirt and black pants and looking like he was ready for a business meeting, Pepper beside him in jeans and a shirt, Maria, Fury, Bruce who stared at Natasha like she was a porcelain doll who was about ready to shatter and Clint who looked at Nat with worry obvious across his face.

“I’m fine,” she said softly to Barton after the three of them were ushered into the front hall of Avengers Tower. She took Clint’s hand and the archer nodded. Steve swallowed down the ball of jealousy that soared up at the sight. Barton was her best friend, he knew that. And besides, he told himself, Natasha wasn’t his. Not yet.

The others were all still watching Natasha, though, studying her almost. Even Tony hadn’t cracked a joke yet.

She looked up at them all. “You guys really need to stop staring at me,” she said. “I usually kill people who look at me like that.”

There were grunts and grumbles as everyone shifted, looking everywhere else. Bruce stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“We just don’t want anything to happen to you,” he told her. 

Natasha smiled. “I’m okay,” she said. “I promise.”

Tony pointed to the bruises that were visible below the neckline of her shirt. “You could have done a better job with the makeup,” he told her.

“Shut up, Stark,” she said, and her lip curved up. “Or I could give you matching ones.”

“I’d like to see you try, Romanoff,” he told her. “Now come on, everyone. Fury has some big announcement he wants us to gather around and gasp in surprise over.”

They took the elevators up to the fourteenth floor, gathering in a lounge area complete with a bar. Tony passed out beers and Steve grabbed a spot on an empty couch. Natasha plopped down next to him, Clint on her other side. Steve wanted to ask her if she was really okay — if he had spent the whole drive reliving the night they had rescued her, he couldn’t even imagine what she was reliving — but he didn’t. He knew she wouldn’t tell him even if she wasn’t okay.

Fury stood up and eyed them all.

“Please tell me you found the bastards who took Natasha,” Sam said.

“We believe we did.” Maria spoke up. “We think the man in charge is a Russian operative.”

Beside Steve, he felt Natasha tense.

“Boris Melekhov,” Fury said. Every head in the room turned to Natasha. She frowned. 

“I don’t know him,” she said.

“He sure knows you,” Sam muttered.

“He does,” Fury said. “We think he knows all of you.”

“What?” Voices sounded around the room.

“It’s a madhouse out there,” Maria said. “With the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., everyone thinks they can be the next powerhouse to control world security.”

“And he’s one of them,” Steve said. Maria nodded. 

“What’s his aim?” Bruce said. “Nuclear weapons? Brainwashing? Stun rays?”

“Avengers,” Maria said.

“WHAT?!?!”

Maria almost smiled. “We think he wants to duplicate _you_ all. If S.H.I.E.L.D. had you to save the world, then he wants versions to control the world.”

“Us exactly or us in theory?” Clint asked. “He wants an unruly green monster and a guy in a metal suit?”

“Hey,” Tony said. “It’s a very cool suit.”

“We’re not completely sure,” Maria said. “But we do know they have been working on a serum.” She glanced at Steve. So did everyone else.

“But they took Natasha,” he said.

“They asked me to fight,” she whispered. She was looking at Maria, but Steve could tell she wasn’t really seeing her. Everyone turned to her.

“They kept trying to get me to fight,” she said again. “I thought they were trying to figure out how to stop me. … but they wanted to copy me.”

“Yes,” Maria said. “We think so.”

“So what do we do?” Tony said. “Where do we take down this guy?”

“Here. In Manhattan,” Fury said. 

“Do we get to kill him?” Tony said.

“Capture him,” Fury said. “We want to know what he knows.”

All eyes drifted to Natasha. She kept her face blank.

“And destroy whatever they have,” Fury continued.

“That,” Tony said. “I can do.”

•••

“We’re in position.” Steve pressed the call button in his ear and waited Fury’s confirmation. He could feel everyone else behind him. He turned. “Everyone knows what they are supposed to do?” he asked. 

Nods answered him.

“Yes, sir-ree,” Tony said.

Steve raised a brow at him. Tony and Sam were one team, scheduled to head into the labs and destroy any serum or chemicals they could find. Barton and Bruce were another team. Maria had reports of hostages — probably those their enemies wanted to turn into supersoldiers and spies and hulks — and Barton and Bruce were to free them. And he and Natasha … well, they got Melekhov.

The others hadn’t necessarily agreed with that plan.

“You think that’s the best option?” Barton had said to him, when he knew Natasha was busy talking to Maria. “To let her go after him?”

But Steve hadn’t backed down. “You didn’t see what he did to her. She needs to do this.”

“You did see what he did to her,” Barton had said, and his eyes had narrowed.

“I’ll be with her,” Steve had said. “We need to let her do this. She wants to.”

“You’re supposed to be our leader. We do what we need, not what we want.”

“You don’t think Natasha can handle it?”

“Clint, I’ll be fine.” They hadn’t heard her come up behind them. Her shoulders were set, her eyes steely, but she smiled softly at her friend. “Steve won’t let me get hurt,” she continued. And then she had slipped her hand into Steve’s.

Barton’s eyes had widened. Steve thought maybe his had, too. He wanted to ask her what she was doing, but Barton just nodded at her.

“Anything happens to you and they’re dead,” Barton said.

“Yes,” Natasha said, “because I killed them.”

She smiled again, and Barton drifted away. Natasha kept holding on to Steve’s hand.

“Nat?” Steve said.

“I thought this is what you wanted,” she said softly.

“I’m not sure what it is you want,” he answered her.

“To get this guy,” she said. “That’s what I want.” Then she leaned up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “Thank you,” she said, and then she slipped out of his hand and walked away.

Now he could sense her standing directly behind him in the dark, tense and on edge but ready. 

“Okay,” Steve said. “On my go. Everyone gets in and out in twenty. You need help, contact Maria.”

More nods.

“Go!”

They all spread out, disappearing into the night. Steve looked at Natasha and waited for her nod, then they started forward. It was dark out, just a sliver of moon hidden behind clouds this time, and he tried not to think of the last time he ran across a dark complex and what he found inside.

Finding Melekhov wasn’t hard. The building was straightforward and there was one long hall to get them to where they needed to go. Maria assured them he was here. They had no reason to expect not. 

Steve let Natasha pick the lock to the office and they slipped inside, Steve’s shield in front of them, Natasha’s guns in her hands. The office was empty.

“Is there a back area?” Natasha glanced at Steve.

He didn’t have time to get the words out. 

“No,” came a gruff voice and something was thrown toward them. Steve swung his shield, knocking it away. It spun through the air, metal glinting. 

A knife.

A very large, very gruff man stood before them, his square-shaped face cut across by a scar. He smiled, revealing yellow cracked teeth.

“Black Widow,” the man — Boris Melekhov. Steve recognized him instantly from the picture Natasha had pulled up on her phone earlier — practically snarled. “So we meet after all.”

Steve didn’t wait. He aimed his shield at the man. Melekhov ducked, another knife shooting out toward Steve and Natasha. Steve grabbed Nat and pushed her aside, catching his shield as it bounced back at him.

He didn’t see the three men behind them, until one’s arms wrapped around him. He heard Natasha grunt next to him and knew one had gotten her too.

He bent forward, sending the man behind him flying. Another one leaped on his back. He cast his eyes to the side. Natasha was on the ground with her attacker, wigging underneath him to try and get leverage.

Melekhov pointed at her. “Subdue her,” he said.

Steve saw something fly through the air toward the man on top of Natasha. Steve lunged, but the arms around him held him back. Her attacker caught it.

“Nat!” Steve yelled, just as the man plunged a syringe down toward her leg. She kicked up at him, making him miss, managing to roll out from underneath him. 

Steve concentrated on the two men attacking him, whirling around and sending the one on his back flying off by the force of his movement alone. Both men immediately came forward again. Steve struck with his shield, hitting one in the face and knocking him out.

Behind him, he heard more footsteps and he knew reinforcements were coming. He turned, aiming the shield and hoping he took some out. He kicked out at his first attacker, getting him right in the gut. His shield bounced back and he brought it down on the man’s head, effectively silencing him 

Somewhere to his right, Natasha grunted, and then a man gave a cry of pain that was silenced with a thud. Steve hid a smile as he used his shield to deflect punches and offered up ones of his own.

He didn’t know where Melekhov was, but he didn’t have time to look around.

“Nat!” he yelled.

“I’m on him!” she yelled, and he heard her race down the hall. A part of him ached at the thought of her going alone, but no. He needed to trust her. She had this. He turned back to the six men left in the room with him and let them have it.

One by one they fell, until Steve stood, panting, in the center of the room. He looked toward the open door and the long hallway. He couldn’t hear anything, even with his extra-sensory hearing, but they had to have gone that way.

He took off running. He reached a large empty room. It was so dark he could barely make anything out.

“Natasha?” he whispered.

A cold glint of metal pressed into his neck. “Drop the shield or she’s dead.”

Steve blinked in the dark, trying to make anything out. “Let me see her,” he said.

A light flickered on. The gun pressed deeper into his neck. Glancing down he could see black combat boots.

In front of him, Melekhov entered the room, his arm in a chokehold around Natasha. Steve glanced at her. She seemed okay for the most part. Her hands were tied behind her back and there was an ugly wound on her head, and Melekhov’s arm was pressing into her jugular. Her body, though, seemed limp. For a brief second, Steve was filled with panic, and then he caught her eye.

Her lip quirked. Barely. But it was there.

“Okay,” he said, dropping the shield and raising his hands. “Let her go.”

“Oh,” Melekhov said. “I didn’t say I would let her go.” He wrapped his arm tighter around Natasha’s throat. She made a slight chocking noise.

“On your knees, Captain,” Melekhov ordered. Steve did as he was told.

“You might have taken her from me once,” Melekhov sneered, “but you won’t take her twice.”

“No,” Steve said, keeping his voice meek. “You’re right. I won’t have to.”

Natasha moved, bending over at the waist and using her motion to yank Melekhov over her head. Steve scooped his shield off the floor and turned, bashing it into the guy behind him with the gun. The gun went flying and the guy went down.

“You bitch!” screamed Melekhov up at Natasha. She lunged onto his chest. He punched her in the face. She head butted him. Hard. Melekhov went limp just as the pounding of feet filled the air.

Steve turned, ready, but let out a sigh when he spotted familiar faces.

“Did you guys not leave any fun for me?” Tony asked, staring down Melekhov. “You guys kind of suck.” He looked up at Natasha and the blood dripping down her face. “Romanoff, you really need to start carrying bandages with you.”

Barton looked at her, visibly relieved, and smiled. “Yeah,” he said. “She sure does."


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Drinks were flowing everywhere.

“Are you really sure we got everything?” Bruce was saying to Fury, who didn’t seem particularly pleased that all his Avengers were getting drunk in Stark’s living room but who also wasn’t stopping them.

“We’re never sure about anything,” Maria said. “But seeing as Melekhov is also a wanted criminal from the U.S. government, I don’t think they are going to refuse the present we just dropped off with them.”

“So we don’t have to worry about him snatching us up?” Bruce said.

“Oh, we always have to worry about that,” Clint said, slapping him on the shoulder. 

Steve smiled at the guys, then turned his head to look around the room. Tony and Sam were in a deep discussion in the corner. Natasha, her head now freshly bandaged, was talking to Pepper over by the bar.

As thought she felt Steve’s eyes on her, she turned her head and looked at him. A few moments later, Steve saw her walk away from Pepper and over to him.

He reached out and placed a soft finger on her bandage.

“How’s it feel?” he asked her.

She held up her glass of clear liquid — vodka, Steve guessed — and grinned. “Not so bad this won’t help,” she said, and took a sip.

“You did good in there,” he said.

Her eyes narrowed. “Of course I did,” she said. “I always do good.”

Steve shook his head. “I didn’t mean …”

She reached out and took his hand. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“What if I want to worry about you?”

“Steve …”

“No, it’s okay,” he said quickly. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

She squeezed his fingers. “Can we go somewhere a bit more private?” 

Steve looked around. Fury, Maria, Bruce and Barton were still having an intense discussion as were Tony, Sam and Pepper. As Steve looked in his direction, Sam grinned at him and raised his beer bottle.

“I don’t think anyone will miss us,” Steve said.

They ended up in the bedroom Natasha had used to get ready for their mission.

“JARVIS, lock the door,” she commanded when they entered.

“Yes, Miss Romanoff,” the computer answered.

“And no security videos,” she added.

“Yes, Miss Romanoff.”

Steve heard a click of the doors locking. Natasha walked over to the bed and sat down, gesturing for Steve to follow. He cautiously sat next to her. He remembered another time, sitting on a bed next to her. Her hair had been wet then and she had been unsure. It was the first time she had really let him in.

Now she stared at him in almost the same way she had stared at him that day, her green eyes wide and searching.

“I’ve always been taught love is for children,” she said. “I’m not even sure I’m capable of it.”

Steve couldn’t help the smile on his face. “I don’t believe that,” he said. 

She shrugged. “I’ve been alone my whole life. Relationships just get in the way.”

“Yes, they can,” Steve said. He wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but he had a bad feeling.

“I don’t know that I’m capable of being in one.”

“Nat, it’s okay …”

“But I want to try.”

Steve blinked. She tilted her head. “Say something,” she said when he didn’t.

“You don’t have to do this,” he finally said.

“I know,” she said, then a few beats later. “Do you love me?”

Steve shook his head. “Maybe,” he said. “Yes. I don’t know.”

“Do you want to love me?”

“Do you want me to love you?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Can I tell you later?” She stood up, moving to stand in front of Steve, facing him. He reached up and put his hands on her hips.

“I want to try,” she said. “This. Us. With you.” 

She placed her right knee on the bed beside him, then placed her left knee on the other side, lowering herself down so she was straddling his lap. She placed her hands on either side of his face and then she leaned in, meeting his lips with hers.

“I want to try too,” he whispered against her lips, and then he was flipping her over, pinning her underneath him. She smiled, her hair like a halo around her head, her green eyes trusting. He couldn’t remember ever seeing anything so beautiful, let alone anything that beautiful looking back at him.

His hands found the hem of her tank top and he pulled it up, sliding it over her head and off her arms. He stared down at her in her black lace bra and yoga pants. He could still see some of the bruises.

He looked up to meet her eyes. “Are you sure?” he asked, because he was a gentleman and he needed to know.

She nodded. “I’m sure,” she said, and then she sat up and helped him tug his own tank top off, her fingers stroking down his chest once she did.

He bent in again, his lips finding hers, moving with hers. She moaned softly into his mouth. He wanted to take his time, explore every inch of her, but part of him was worried she was going to change her mind.

He kept his lips on hers as he dropped his hand, his fingers exploring her stomach and her back and finally darting under her bra to palm her breast, his thumb stroking her nipple.

“Steve,” she mumbled into his mouth, and he felt her hands leave his chest. A few seconds later he felt her bra fall forward on to his wrist.

He opened his eyes to stare at her and she smirked. 

“You were taking too long.”

He pushed her back so she was lying down again, kissing her hard on the lips. And then he started to move, down her neck, past her clavicle, down to her breasts, his lips finding her nipples and sucking hard.

Her fingers tangled in his hair and she arched her back. He kept going, kissing down her abdomen, circling his tongue in her belly button, pressing his lips against the black fabric at her hips and finally at the fabric between her legs.

She moaned and reached down toward her pants, but he caught her wrists, pushing them over her head.

“No,” he told her.

She wiggled, and he removed one hand from her wrists and placed it between her legs. She wiggled more as he began to rub her through the fabric, teasing her until he could feel it start to become damp.

“You’re killing me,” she hissed, and he grinned at her, giving her another kiss, then finally moving back down to hook his thumbs in the waistband of her pants and slide them down her legs, taking her underwear with him.

He tossed the offending material aside and then turned to look at her, lying naked on the bed, just for him.

“God, you’re beautiful.” He couldn’t help the words that crossed his lips.

“Just shut up and fuck me,” but she was smiling. 

He did what she said. He bent in, placing his head between her legs, sliding his tongue up and down and finally taking her clit between his lips. She moaned, and he easily slid a finger inside her, adding a second soon after.

She shifted below him, and he sped up, his tongue still lapping at her as his fingers moved inside her. Her fingers tightened in his hair, and his free hand had to hold her by the hips to keep her in place.

“Oh, god, Steve,” she whispered, and then he was adding a third finger and her moans were getting louder, and when he finally bit down on her clit, he felt her shatter around him.

He made love to her three times that night. At least it felt like making love to him.

“I want you, Natasha Romanoff,” he whispered to her once they were done. Her head was resting on his chest, but he knew she wasn’t asleep yet.

She propped her chin up and looked at him. “Yeah,” she said, and then she smirked. “I think you’ll do.” And then she laid her head back down and closed her eyes.

Steve laughed and wrapped his arms around her. _“I want to try,”_ she had said, and he knew she meant it. Because she was here and she was safe and she was willing to give them a chance.

It was more than enough for now.


End file.
